Miscommunication and Consequences
by Gwyddelig
Summary: Alternative turns for Dance with Somebody. Kurt and Blaine haven't been communicating. What happens when one thing occurs differently? What if instead of Blaine storming out after singing 'It's Not Alright But It's Okay', Kurt did and now they have to deal with the consequences that follow? (Terrible summary, please just read and judge for yourself.) [x-posted to AO3]


Disclaimer: Glee and characters is property FOX, RIB, etc. I own nothing but the insanity within my mind and a couple harmless OCs. *See bottom for author's notes*

Before the last chords of the song ended, even before the last refrain, Kurt had had enough. He stood stiffly, face burning with embarrassment and pain tightening his chest, and left the classroom as swiftly as possible.

How could Blaine do that to him? To insinuate that Kurt was cheating (and maybe he was and didn't even realize it) in private conversation was one thing, but to do so in front of the whole of New Directions? Sure, letting Chandler chat him up over text was not the brightest thing he'd ever done, but it had never once crossed his mind to do anything other than converse with the hyperactive young man.

Admittedly, some of Chandler's most recent texts – ones Kurt hadn't even read yet – were pushing the friendly flirting barrier, but most of them had been relatively innocent. Alright, they'd been downright flirty and certainly far more flattering than anything he'd heard of late.

All this was beside the point.

Kurt didn't know whether or not he'd be able to even look at Blaine again any time soon. His heart hurt something terrible and the pain of it made him feel dizzy and short of breath. He loved Blaine with his whole being, but...

Reaching the safety of his Navigator, Kurt locked the doors and leaned against the wheel, his thoughts spinning out of control. He couldn't believe that Blaine had aired their 'dirty laundry' for all of New Directions to gossip about. And the looks! They all thought Kurt had cheated on the dapper former Warbler! Didn't they know him at all? Didn't Blaine?

Before tears could blind him, Kurt jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine. He needed to get away. Blaine didn't trust him. Blaine, who had barely talked to him in weeks, whom he had barely seen outside of school in what felt like months.

As the car rolled out of the parking lot, the thought struck him like lightning. Blaine hadn't wanted to spend time with him or make out with him, had barely touched him and could hardly look him in the eye, had accused him of cheating... Had Blaine himself found someone else? Was that what this was all about?

Kurt gasped as he considered it. It made oddly perfect sense.

He felt both hot and cold at the concept; the anger though was smothered by the sickening feeling of his heart breaking into pieces. Tears, which he had been able to hold at bay until now, spilled over his cheeks, blurring his vision.

So distracted was he by the thoughts whirling about his head that he didn't notice the truck coming at him on the wrong side of the road until it was too late.

* * *

Finn's phone buzzed in his pocket just as he was heading out of the choir room. The awful tension between Kurt and Blaine had culminated in his step-brother storming out before his boyfriend could even finish his song; and Finn was seriously confused as to exactly what had happened. Klaine, as the couple had come to be called, was a thing – a solid thing, the endgame kind – and anyone who knew them could see it. What had happened in that classroom had not been very Klaine-like at all.

The phone buzzed again as Finn fished it from his pocket. "Hey, mom," he answered, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he juggled his backpack while fumbling for his keys.

"Finn, sweetie," Carole breathed down the line. Finn froze. His mother only began conversations like that when something was serious or wrong. "Finn, I need you to come to the hospital as soon as you can."

The quarterback frowned. "Okay, need me to bring you anything?" he asked, finally freeing his keys and unlocking the truck. Carole was on the late shift and it wasn't uncommon for her to ask one of the boys to bring her something she'd forgotten at home. Finn wasn't positive, but this didn't sound like one of those kinds of phone calls.

"Just get here quickly, but drive carefully, okay?" she told him, her voice thick. It sounded like she had a cold. He didn't think she'd had one when he saw her that morning, but sometimes things came on quickly.

"Alright, mom, I'll be there shortly." They said their 'I love yous' and quick goodbyes before hanging up.

The drive to Lima Memorial was a short one. Finn parked the truck in one of the visitor spaces and headed for the main entrance before realizing he didn't know what ward his mother was working in that night.

He needn't have worried, however, as Carole was waiting for him in the lobby. She looked frantic, hurrying over to him as he came through the sliding double doors. "Mom?" Finn asked, confused, noting the tears in her eyes. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Instead of responding, she pulled him into a tight hug, fiercely holding onto him as if her life depended on it. Once she'd finally released him, he thought he'd get an answer, but she remained silent, pulling him through the waiting rooms until they reached a small room reserved for families of emergency patients.

"There was an accident..." she began, choking a little as she tried to gather herself.

Finn's eyes widened, shock coursing through him. "B-burt's alright, isn't he? I mean..."

Carole shook her head, cheeks glittering in the harsh fluorescent light. "It wasn't Burt, sweetie."

"But-" Finn stopped, his breath escaping as it hit him. "Kurt? But I- What happened? Is he-" He couldn't finish the question. He'd seen Kurt not an hour before. It didn't seem real.

"They have him in surgery," Carole was saying, her voice barely audible above the buzzing in his ears. Finn realized he had missed part of what she was saying. "They're not sure about the extent of his injuries, but-" she choked again, a sob cutting her off from continuing. "Burt's on his way back from Washington, but I have no idea when he'll get here."

"What happened?" Finn asked again, voice soft and troubled.

Carole sat down, the plastic waiting chair thudding against the wall. Finn had never seen her so broken, not even when she'd confessed what really happened to his father. After a moment though, she gathered herself enough to speak and it was like watching a train wreck.

"A drunk driver crossed the median line and hit him head on," she told him at length. After a moment, something dawned on her. "He was supposed to be at Glee practice. Why wasn't he at Glee?"

A sick sensation welled up in Finn's belly, pain warring with anger as he thought about just what had driven his brother out of Glee that afternoon. He looked down into his mother's tear streaked face, "He was upset. He left early. I... I think Blaine accused him of cheating and sang about it at practice today. At least, that's what it sounded like."

Carole looked stricken. "Kurt would never cheat on Blaine," she denied fervently.

Finn shook his head in agreement. "I know. I don't think it would ever occur to him and even if it did, he'd be so disgusted with the idea... But I think the others believed it. And I think Blaine believes it, otherwise he wouldn't have sung about it."

"When will that boy ever catch a break?" his mother asked no one in particular, her face deeply sad.

Neither of them spoke again until a doctor knocked on the door, entering without waiting for a reply. "Mrs. Hummel?" he asked, glancing back and forth between mother and son.

"Yes, that's me," Carole said, putting a hand on Finn's wrist as she met the doctor's eyes warily.

"I'm Doctor Warren," the man said, offering her a firm handshake before taking Finn's own and shaking it.

"Finn Hudson," the tall boy introduced himself. "Kurt's my step-brother."

The doctor nodded, looking down at his notes. The man heaved a sigh and Finn felt Carole tense, bracing herself for bad news. "Kurt's injuries are relatively severe," he began without preamble. "But things look good so far. The bones we can set. The lacerations we can stitch up. What we're most worried about right know is the head injury. As soon as he's out of surgery, he'll be taken up to Imaging to get an MRI so we can judge the visible extent of the injury and determine whether or not there is any bleeding we should be worried about. If all goes well, we should have him set up in the ICU in the next couple of hours."

Carole nodded, clutching at her son's hand. "What should we expect?" she asked nervously. She hadn't seen Kurt when he'd been brought in, hadn't even known until Natalie had paged her to the Nurse's Station. Burt's voice on the other end of the line had been frantic and by the time she'd made it down to the ER, Kurt had already been taken into surgery.

"I'll be honest, he's not in the best of shape," Doctor Warren told them directly. "But things are much better than they could have been. The vehicle absorbed most of the impact and the airbags deployed properly. There'll be a lot of bruising, but we haven't found any internal bleeding as of yet and don't expect to. He has a broken wrist , bruised ribs, and a fractured clavicle along with numerous lacerations from broken glass – one of which caused some damage that needed surgical repair to stop him from bleeding out. His head impacted the driver side window, but with much less force due to the direction of the initial impact. Regardless, we aren't taking any chances. A head injury is still a head injury. He's currently on an oxygen mask to reduce the risk of brain damage, but he is breathing on his own. As soon as we're more certain he'll stay that way – and if his oxygen levels remain good – we'll likely move to a nasal cannula while he's in the ICU."

Finn listened as the blur of information went mostly over his head. His brother was hurt and the tall quarterback couldn't help but think that Blaine, hell the whole Glee club, was responsible in some way. After all, if the curly headed boy hadn't been so crass as to imply that Kurt had cheated on him in front of a room of admittedly judgmental teens, then none of this would have happened.

Upset and angry, Finn wanted to blame someone and that someone certainly wasn't Kurt.

It had shocked him to hear Blaine sing _It's Not Right, But It's Okay_ in Glee that afternoon, to hear the younger boy accuse his brother of infidelity, and at the time Finn hadn't known what to think. Blaine had obviously been hurting, whether the cheating was real or imagined. When all heads had swiveled to Kurt, suspicious despite the fey boy's protest, Finn could tell they were taking sides – and it felt, to him, like they were siding with Blaine.

Even Rachel, who had no room to talk, had scowled at her so-called best friend as if he was a monster and had done the dirtiest thing imaginable.

Finn knew Kurt, though. He knew his brother and how much he loved Blaine. But Finn knew Blaine, too. Not as well, but he still knew him; and he knew Blaine had trust issues and tended to blow things out of proportion. It probably made him fit in better at McKinley, since most of New Directions did the same thing.

"Mom?" Finn said, speaking up as the doctor left them to check on his patient. Carole's eyes rose to meet his and Finn took a deep breath. "Is Kurt gonna be okay?"

A wan smile thinned his mother's lips, sympathy kind in her eyes. She was proud of her son and how he'd grown, how he'd become a brother to Kurt despite their differences. "I hope so, sweetie. I really hope so."

* * *

Once Kurt was moved into the Intensive Care Unit, they were allowed in to see him, but only one at a time and for fifteen minutes each hour.

Finn waved off his turn the first time around, not prepared to see his brother hooked up to all kinds of machines and looking so small and lifeless. It had been bad enough when Burt had been in the hospital and Finn had been afraid he was going to lose the only father he'd ever known.

Instead he waited for Burt to arrive, occasionally stepping out of the waiting room to slip down to the cafeteria or outside to pace the sidewalk.

He hadn't texted or phoned any of their friends, not sure if Kurt would have wanted them around, especially Blaine. That was another thing about Kurt, when he was hurting he pushed everyone away rather than let them help him. Finn didn't understand it and often didn't agree with it, but the choice was Kurt's. Only right now, Kurt couldn't make that choice himself.

While they were waiting for Kurt to get out of surgery, a police officer had stopped by to check in with them and turn over Kurt's personal belongings, which is how Finn came into possession of his brother's cellphone.

**Blaine** 6:55 PM

Text Message (17)

**Blaine ** 6:54 PM

Missed Call & Voicemail (8)

**Rachel ** 5:10 PM

Text Message (5)

**Mercedes** 4:05 PM

Missed Call & Voicemail

Finn frowned at the lock screen. He was tempted to look through the messages, but decided against it. That didn't, however, stop him from answering when the phone lit up in his hand with Blaine's name and a cute photo of the curly haired boy.

"_Finn?"_ Blaine's voice sounded confused as it traveled through the tiny speaker. _"Why are you answering Kurt's phone?"_

Why, indeed. Finn really had no clue why he'd answered the call in the first place. What he did know was he felt like giving Blaine a piece of his mind. "Look, man, what you did in Glee Club today: not cool. Accusing him of cheating like that, whether he did or not, was totally uncalled for. Now, regardless of whether or not he did, everyone thinks he did."

There was a pause and Finn could practically hear Blaine's anger boiling on the other end of the line. _"I'm not talking to you about this, Finn. Where's Kurt? Put him on the phone."_

Finn shook his head, even though Blaine couldn't see it. "Can't."

"_Why the fuck not?"_ And wasn't that a bit of a shock, Blaine debonaire Anderson cursing.

"Because he's in the ICU after his truck was hit head-on by a drunk driver, that's why!" Finn bit out before he could stop himself.

The silence lasted long enough that Finn was beginning to think Blaine had hung up on him. _"That's not funny, Finn,"_ Blaine bit out finally, his voice harsh.

"You think I'd joke about something like this?" the older boy asked incredulously.

That seemed to drive home the truth and Blaine stuttered meekly. _"H-how is he?"_

"See, that's not how this works," Finn ground out. "'Cause as far as I'm concerned, you're responsible for this. If you cared about him in the first place, you wouldn't have sung that stupid song in Glee and he wouldn't be lying there with us wondering if he's going to wake up!"

Finn hadn't realized how angry he actually was about the whole mess until that very moment. After the events of the previous year, he'd gotten pretty protective of Kurt and he hated to see the smaller boy hurt. They might not have been related by blood, but Kurt was his little brother.

Blaine stammered out something Finn didn't care enough to catch before ending the call.

It didn't surprise Finn that Rachel called a few minutes later, on Finn's own cellphone. He debated not answering it, but things had been rocky enough with her lately that he didn't want to chance it.

She didn't even let him get a greeting out before she assailed him with questions and demands to know how Kurt was doing. "Look, Rachel," he got in finally once she'd paused for breath. "I appreciate your concern, but we don't know much right now so I can't really tell you anything."

He let her whine at him and cry a while before sighing. "Look, Rach, I really need to get back inside. I'll let you know once we know something, just... please, keep it to yourself for now," he begged of her, though he knew there was little hope of her keeping quiet.

* * *

Burt arrived later that evening to find Blaine in the downstairs waiting room looking distressed and exhausted.

"Mr. Hummel," the boy choked out, standing up to greet him politely.

"What are you doing down here, kid?" the older man asked, stopping and looking his son's boyfriend over.

"The won't let me up to the ICU waiting area, said only family was allowed to visit patients there," Blaine confessed sadly. "And well, Kurt and I were fighting this week and Finn thinks it's all my fault."

The former Warbler's voice broke at the end of his speech, hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears. Burt felt bad for the kid, but really right now all he wanted was to see his son. "Look, Blaine, what happened, it's no one's fault except that drunk driver's. C'mon, I'll take you up with me. I can't promise they'll let you see him, but you can at least wait up there with us. My boy loves you, that makes you family in my book."

Blaine lost his fight with his tears then, sobbing softly as he nodded and followed Burt to the elevator that would take them up to ICU.

"Whatever it was you two fought about, you'll work it out," Burt told him as they rode. "You'll see."

At least, he hoped they would have the chance to. Kurt still hadn't woken up; but from what little Carole had been able to relay to him, Burt knew the MRI had looked hopeful.

* * *

"Get out!" Finn demanded as Blaine walked in behind Burt. "It's all your fault he's here in the first place, you have no right to be here!"

The younger boy flinched, looking down in despair. He knew he wouldn't be welcomed by the tall baritenor but he had at least hoped to avoid open conflict.

"That's not your call, bud," Burt returned, starring down his stepson.

"He accused Kurt of cheating on him! In front of the entire Glee Club!" Finn all but shrieked. "If it wasn't for him, Kurt wouldn't have been there when that drunk driver crossed the median!"

Burt frowned. "Be that as it may, it's my choice who gets to sit and wait for my son in this miserable place. So you'd better play nice or I'll kick you out. Get me?"

Appropriately chastised, Finn slumped back into a chair, glowering at Blaine and grumbling under his breath. Truthfully, Finn knew it wasn't Blaine's fault any more than it was Kurt's for leaving, but he wanted – needed to blame someone and blaming the dapper preppy was the easiest course.

That settled, Burt turned and scanned the floor. "Now, where's a nurse who can tell me how my son is?"

* * *

Kurt woke to the sounds of machinery beeping and hissing softly. It took him a moment to realize where he was, a groggy haze hanging over him and making him feel muddled.

_Hospital._

"Why hello there!" someone piped from the side, drawing his attention away from the aging ceiling tiles and a weirdly shaped watermark that had somehow drawn his attention as he woke. "Good to finally see those pretty eyes of yours," the person went on, her voice gentle and happy. "Let me just grab Doctor Tam and we'll get you sorted out, alright?"

The woman, a nurse Kurt realized, bustled out of the room, leaving him alone once again with the beeping and hissing. While she was away, he tried to remember how he'd gotten there. Everything was hazy, though he remembered leaving school...

That was right, Blaine had sung a song about cheating and everyone had looked at him with such accusing eyes and he'd left. Kurt's head began to hurt and he could feel tears welling up. He hadn't meant to cheat, if it had even been that. And now Blaine hated him and so did everyone else.

Kurt went to wipe his face only to find one hand wrapped in a stiff cast and the other sporting an IV. Dandy, what else would he find?

"Good morning, Mr. Hummel!" called a young-ish voice from the door followed by the soft clacking of dress shoes on tile. "I'm Doctor Tam. How are you feeling?"

Kurt gave the chipper doctor a dark look, as if to say 'I'm in the hospital, what do you think?', before taking a moment to assess himself. His head hurt, as he'd already noted, but otherwise, he wasn't really feeling much of anything. There was still a groggy, fuzzy feeling to everything that made everything a little surreal.

"Head hurts," he finally croaked out, gasping a little at how awful he sounded.

The doctor nodded, blue eyes sympathetic as he scribbled notes to Kurt's chart on a tablet. "We'll get you something for that, but we need to run a few tests first, alright?"

By the time the battery of tests had finished, including another MRI, Kurt's head was worse and he was more than a little cranky. Other aches and pains were beginning to make themselves known and all Kurt wanted was some painkillers and to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, now that he was awake, they'd placed him on concussion watch. Joy, oh joy. He just loved being woken every hour and asked stupid questions. Conversely, when they rolled him back into his room, he found his father waiting for him.

"Dad!" he cried, wincing at the sound of his own high pitched voice ringing in his hears.

"Hey, kiddo," Burt sighed warmly, waiting only long enough for the nurse to hook everything back up before taking his son in his arms for a big (but gentle) hug.

"I thought you were in D.C. until tomorrow." Well, that had been the plan, at least as far as Kurt knew.

"Did you think I'd just sit there listening to all those yammerheads when my son was in the hospital after a car wreck?" Burt asked him, scowling playfully.

Kurt blushed, looking down at his lap. "Well, no, but... well, I guess I didn't think about that."

"You wouldn't, would you?" Burt chuckled fondly, reaching up and carefully ruffling the boy's hair. It was a bit more than sleep mussed and, truth be told, Kurt was dying to take a shower... only, he wasn't sure how well he'd manage that at the moment. "So Doctor Tam tells me now that you're awake and your scans are looking good, they're looking at moving you to a regular room in the morning. And if all else goes well, you'll be out of here tomorrow morning."

It was good news. Kurt hated hospitals and would be more than glad to put this trip to one in his rearview.

They talked a little longer, until the painkillers began to kick in and Kurt was tired again. He knew they'd wake him in an hour, but for the time being he was going to sleep.

* * *

"He woke up," Burt told everyone with a big smile as he slipped back into the waiting room. "Doc says everything's looking good so far and in the morning they'll probably move him to a regular room."

Carole was on her feet in an instant, throwing herself into Burt's arms with relief. "Thank God!" she gasped, pulling back to smile up at him.

With a smile, the mechanic-turned-congressman kissed his wife and turned to the two boys. "They've got him on concussion watch and he's sleeping now – really sleeping, so I think we all should take this time to grab something to eat. I don't know about all of you, but I'm starving."

Finn's stomach chose that moment to grumble, reminding them all that they'd skipped meals and had little more than coffee and soda for the past few hours as they waited on pins and needles for Kurt to wake up.

Embarrassed, Finn just shrugged. "I could eat."

* * *

The quartet had moved down to the hospital cafeteria, but they were no less sombre than they had been in the waiting room. Inane topics were discussed, ranging from the quality of the food to the turning of the weather; no one wanted to touch on anything remotely related to the reason Kurt was there.

Blaine picked at his salad listlessly, ignoring the stares from Finn even as Carole and Burt chatted amongst themselves quietly. He couldn't figure out how things had gone so terribly wrong. Where they had, yes. Blaine knew if he hadn't blown things out of proportion, if he hadn't aired their private lives for God and the New Directions to see, then none of this would have happened. Yes, they might still have been fighting, but Kurt wouldn't be laying in a hospital bed.

At least the other boy was going to be okay. And in time, Blaine was determined they would, too.

The former Warbler knew he had issues. Insecurity was one of the main ones that kept getting in the way time after time. It was why he'd blown up over the stupid, flirty texts that Chandler had been sending. What was worse is Blaine knew he himself was to blame for Kurt seeking attention elsewhere. If Blaine hadn't felt the need to pull away, to protect himself from what he felt was inevitable...

And wasn't that a thing that burned. Because Kurt was leaving for New York, come hell or high Gaga. Kurt, for whom he had given up the safety of Dalton and the prestige of graduating from a well-known preparatory school, was leaving him behind. And even though Kurt was still there in body, Blaine knew his mind was already in New York. After all, it was everything Kurt talked about. New York this, New York that.

What Blaine had forgotten was just how much of Kurt's New York plans involved _them_ rather than just himself. Kurt had gone on endlessly about weekends together and Skype dates, about how many wonderful things he wanted to do and see... with Blaine.

However, that hadn't stopped Blaine from feeling like Kurt was leaving him, abandoning him. They'd spent everyday together since Kurt had transferred to Dalton, even before Blaine had realized the depths of his feelings for the porcelain pale countertenor. A year without that, Blaine wasn't sure he could handle.

So many 'what ifs' floated around his head, most of them ending in horror that spelled loneliness and heartache for Blaine.

The salad was falling off his plate by that point and Blaine really didn't care to even try to eat any of the mess he'd made. He was such a fool and it was a wonder Kurt put up with half of his nonsense.

Blaine tossed his fork onto the tray and frowned, a thought occurring to him. When had they last talked? Really talked? It chilled him to think he couldn't quite remember. They had used to talk all the time, every little thing in complete honesty. Alright, not quite every little thing, but all the things that mattered. They'd always been completely honest with each other even when it had been uncomfortable. When had that stopped?

"Blaine? Honey, are you okay?" Carole asked, noticing his dower expression. "You know he's going to be alright, don't you? He's going to be just fine."

He gave her a small smile as she reached out to squeeze his hand. There was no way Blaine wanted to tell her that hadn't been what he was thinking about. It would sound callous and selfish. And wasn't it just? That thought was like a brick in his stomach as he realized that his agonizing had no place here.

Another thought struck him. "Kurt's NYADA audition is next week," he breathed, paling. Yes, Blaine wanted Kurt by his side, but this wasn't how he wanted to get it. If Kurt didn't get his chance to audition because of Blaine's idiotic actions... "Oh God," the boy murmured, dropping his head down to the table and pulling at his hair. This was all his fault.

"Hey now," Burt said, interrupting his mental self-flagellation. "Don't go blaming yourself for things beyond your control. Will it disappoint him to miss the audition? You're damned right it will. But Kurt's nothing if not stubborn and he's not going to give up so easily. Instead of beating yourself up, you should focus on being there for him and supporting him, whatever happens – just like he would support you."

Burt leant forward, his light eyes so like his sons that Blaine ached. "I don't know what went on between you two – and it's none of my business – but I know my son. He's not perfect. Sometimes he's painfully naïve and, Lord knows, he can get so wrapped up in what he's got going on that he is oblivious to the feelings and needs of those around him; but fact is, he loves the hell out of you, Blaine.

"Yeah, shit happens," the older man went on, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his balding pate. "You guys had a fight. And I'm sure you both handled it badly. All of it might have lead up to the accident, but it wasn't the cause. So quit thinking you're at fault for what happened to him, because it was just crappy luck."

* * *

"I can't wait to go home and sleep," Kurt moaned, shifting awkwardly as his ribs twinged.

He'd been moved to a regular room earlier that morning, but the concussion watch still remained in effect. At least they'd removed the oxygen and monitors had been reduced to only those standardly necessary. They still beeped at him constantly, but the irritating hiss was gone.

"Soon enough," his dad told him, ruffling the bedridden boy's hair as he sat down. "Think you're up for some visitors?"

"As long as they don't want to ask me stupid questions about my name and birthday and who the president is, sure," Kurt pouted, swatting at his father's hand as he attempted to smooth his hair back into some semblance of order.

"Standard procedure, Mr. Hummel," chirped the nurse who stepped in and Kurt rolled his eyes. "I could ask you math problems or have you recite the alphabet, if you'd rather."

The countertenor shook his head, regretting the action as it cause the pounding to increase. "How about you let me out of here? I'm obviously fine," he insisted, ignoring Burt's scoff. "And will certainly rest better in the comfort of my own home."

His wheedling was met with amusement as the nurse checked his vitals and scribbled notes to his chart. "Sorry, no can do. What if you went home, went to sleep, and slipped into a coma? Or if there was bleeding we hadn't caught, causing you to have a stroke? Head injuries are serious business," she told him seriously, but kindly. "Our goal is to see to it none of that happens. And the best way to do that is for you to stay right where you are."

Kurt paled a little as she spoke. He hadn't thought about any of those things happening to him at all. Then again, he hadn't really thought about a lot as far as consequences of his actions went lately, had he?

First, he'd been stupid enough to think it was okay to let some guy he'd met at the music store flirt with him. Sure, it was innocent enough, on his end; but Kurt had known he was doing wrong, even if he hadn't thought of it as cheating. The fight with Blaine over it all was equally stupid. And then storming off like he had? Sure, he'd been embarrassed – mortally so – and hurt, but running away never solved anything.

But he'd hurt Blaine as well; and Kurt had to wonder when things had gotten so out of hand? When had they stopped talking? Why had Blaine begun pulling away from him?

In the end, Kurt had no answers; but he did know if he wanted to fix things with Blaine, they were going to have to start communicating again.

Visitors came and went, though Kurt didn't speak much, wrapped up in his own head and exhausted beyond measure. When the nurse finally called an end to visiting hours, the slender boy breathed a sigh of relief.

Blaine hadn't been to see him and all Kurt wanted to do was curl up and cry himself to sleep. Were things really that bad? That beyond repair? He didn't want to believe so, but the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn't leave the thought alone.

In an attempt to push it aside, Kurt focused on the fact that, barring any unforeseen complications, he was being released the following morning. There wasn't anything he could do while still in the hospital, but once he was home...

"Just you wait, Blaine Warbler," Kurt muttered into the stiff and scratchy hospital pillow. "I'm not letting you go that easily."

* * *

Blaine felt awful for not visiting Kurt, but after that morning's discussion he'd seriously needed some time to think. He knew that if he wanted to keep Kurt, then he needed to overcome his insecurities. He also needed Kurt to understand, to see things from his point of view.

After some soul searching, the former lead-soloist understood that they were both at fault for their argument: Blaine for pushing Kurt away and Kurt for not seeing what his actions were – and both of them for not talking about the things that were bothering them.

He'd eventually found his way home, deciding sleep would be a good idea. He was just pulling on a pair of pajama pants when his mother knocked on the door.

"Blaine?" she asked softly, concern lacing her gentle query. "Can I come in?"

Jane Anderson was a willowy woman, thin and tall but with a gentleness that came with upbringing and social success. At his murmured assent, she slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

"How's Kurt, sweetie?" his mother asked, settling on the edge of the bed and turning hazel eyes – just a shade darker than his own – to settle on her son's face. Blaine could never hide anything from his mother. She had always been able to read him like a book and what she saw in his face then must have concerned her for she began to frown.

"He's fine," Blaine sighed, forestalling her worry. "He'll be really sore for the next while, but he'll heal. As long as he's still doing well tomorrow, they plan on releasing him in the morning."

"That's good," she replied, smiling. "So what has you down, _mahal_?"

Without thought, Blaine settled himself into her open arms. "Kurt and I were fighting before the accident. And even though I know it's not my fault, I still can't help but feel a bit responsible," he told her sadly. "If I hadn't aired our problems in Glee Club, he wouldn't have even been in his car. He would have still been sitting in that classroom."

"That is true," his mother agreed. "But you didn't make Kurt leave. Perhaps your actions did, but you were not the one who put him out of the room, or forced him into his car. Kurt made those choices himself. He could have chosen to stay and face you, instead he chose to leave. There is no fault here, not for that."

"I know, _nanay_," Blaine sighed.

"Then no more of this," Jane commanded, standing up and taking her child with her. "You and Kurt need to talk. And none of this blame, talk like adults and resolve your issues. You two are too good for each other to let things fall apart."

She clapped him on the shoulders, squeezing gently. "Come, dinner's ready and you look like you haven't eaten or slept in a week. You can't go see Kurt in the morning looking haggard and half starved."

* * *

"I'm fine!" Kurt snapped, pushing at Finn's hands to stop the older boy from his continued fussing. Ever since they had gotten home, his brother had fretted constantly – trying to fluff pillows or tuck him in or bring him water or juice or would he like this or that. It was beginning to drive Kurt mad. "I appreciate that you care, Finn, but I'm fine. Alright? I don't need to be tucked in or another glass of water or anything, except for you to quit hovering. Go play a videogame or go over to Puck's or something, just give me some space."

He really hadn't meant to snap at the well-meaning lug, but enough was enough. It had been bad enough to have nurses pestering him in the hospital; it was a completely different thing to feel so smothered in his own home.

"Sorry, sorry," Finn mumbled, backing off.

Kurt sighed. "It's alright, Finn. I'm just tired and cranky and now that I can finally get some solid sleep, that's all I want to do. Okay?"

Finn nodded, still looking concerned about leaving Kurt on his own.

"Geez, look. If I promise to call you if I need anything, will you leave me to get some sleep?" the countertenor pleaded, his voice slightly higher than normal in desperation. When the other boy agreed and finally left the room, Kurt sagged back against the pillows. "Finally."

His peace wasn't to last long, however. Not thirty minutes later there was a knock on his door before it was rudely opened.

"Hey, Kurt," his father called softly into the darkened room. "Someone's here to see you."

Biting back a snarky retort, Kurt groaned and sat up – almost falling back again when Blaine stepped into the room. His boyfriend – could Kurt still call him that? – looked almost as bad as Kurt himself felt and it worried him.

"Blaine?" he called out when it became apparent the other boy wasn't going to move any further into the room.

His voice seemed to startle the other boy causing Blaine to look up at him with an expression Kurt couldn't place. "This was a bad idea," he mumbled before turning to leave.

"No wait!" Kurt implored, reaching a hand out and overbalancing himself, but Blaine was gone. Groaning, the slender singer righted himself carefully – painfully aware of the throbbing in his cast arm and the aggravated feeling along his ribs.

Miffed, he thought about calling for Finn to bring him his painkillers, but decided against it. There would be too many questions and, if the slamming of the front door was any indication, he was already going to be bombarded with more than he wanted to deal with.

* * *

Kurt was allowed back to school midweek, with instructions to take it easy and not strain himself. The cast made things difficult, but it was the laceration on his leg which had required minor surgery that bothered him the most. His ribs ached as well, but it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with.

Oddly enough, he was happy to be back at school. Being stuck at home had been exceedingly boring, never mind the hovering family members whenever they happened to be home. Kurt wasn't sure what to expect out of the New Directions, but anything was better than daytime soaps – even if he did get to watch the Ellen Show.

"Boo!" Mercedes burst out as she spotted him limping his way to his locker. "They let you back so soon?" She seemed stunned. "Hell to the no, you should still be in bed, sweet cheeks! What do they think they're doing, letting you come back to this hell hole while you're still healing! It hasn't even been a week!"

"Almost," Kurt retorted, ignoring her insistence that he turn around and head back home that instant. "Besides, all I was doing at home was going slowly crazy. At least here, the transition will be swift."

That got a laugh out of her and Kurt smiled. "Boy, you're already crazy, so I don't think you need to worry."

"You wound me!" the fey boy replied, clutching at his heart. "Anyway, I really need to find Blaine and see if I can get him to talk to me."

So far, Blaine had been ignoring his texts and phone calls, but Kurt had hope. He refused to go down without a fight.

"Good luck with that," his friend snorted. "Blainers has been ignoring all of us this week. Probably doesn't help that every time Finn sees him the big galoot practically breathes fire."

Kurt stared at her disbelievingly. "Finn's been harassing my boyfriend?"

"Dude's protective of you, Kurt," Mercedes placated. "I think he feels like, if it wasn't for Blaine you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"It's my own stupid fault!" Kurt practically yelled. "What gives him the... You know what, I have to go. If you see Finn, tell him to mind his own damned business." And with that, Kurt turned on his heel and limped off, leaving a stunned Mercedes in his wake.

* * *

Kurt didn't find Blaine that day and the dark haired boy didn't show up at Glee practice. With Nationals looming on the horizon, Mr. Shue was not pleased, but there obviously wasn't anything he could do about it.

The other members did their best to work around their missing member; after all, it wasn't like they had a setlist or dance routine prepared anyway. They danced, they sang, they gave Kurt odd looks filled with pity and lingering suspicion.

By the time he and Finn had finally returned home, Kurt was exhausted.

* * *

Thursday dawned and with it a nervousness that he had been able to ignore previously. His leg felt better that morning and dressing was easier, and though he still wore his clothes a little looser than he normally would have, Kurt's outfit was impeccable.

He'd heard rumor from Rachel that Carmen Tibideaux, NYADA's most famous and infamous alum, was scouring the country to hand pick her inaugural class as Dead of Vocal Performance and Song Interpretation. As if he needed any more anxiety involved in his audition. It was bad enough that choreography was out, since he still couldn't move very well, but to have the incoming Dean of the program as his judge... and Carmen Tibideaux at that! The woman was notoriously difficult to impress. No sense worrying about it. Not Kurt Hummel. He was going to go out there and blow her away.

"Hey, Kurt, hurry up! We've gotta go or we're gonna be late!" Finn called up the stairs, followed by a muffled 'ouch' and a thud.

He discovered what the thud was when he finally got to the bottom of the stairs. There, at the bottom of the stairs, stood Rachel. "Hi, Kurt! I figured we could ride in together! I just couldn't stand the idea of not seeing you before our auditions."

"Rachel, we have class together," the other singer pointed out, trying to hoist his satchel onto his shoulder.

The excitable girl blinked brown eyes at him as the thought slowly processed. Honestly, Kurt wasn't sure how she'd maintained a 4.0 GPA, though he was pretty sure it was because of lower intensity classes and the crappy curriculum. "Right, yeah, you're right. Oops. Well, still! This is our day and I want us to share it start to finish!"

Now that, he understood. Rachel was, at this point, arguably his best friend. She was just as driven and just as talented as he was, and despite their differences over the years, that had somehow drawn them together.

Kurt sighed, allowing her to take his good hand and drag him, carefully, out to her car. "Finn's driving though!"

* * *

Blaine paced outside of the auditorium, debating with himself whether or not he should go in there and watch. He'd been such a coward, avoiding Kurt like he had.

Ever since he'd run away from the other boy that weekend, he had been beating himself over the head with his foolishness. What kind of idiot runs away from their bedridden boyfriend? Blaine's kind, apparently.

He'd had everything he'd wanted to say worked out in his head, then he'd looked at Kurt – the tired eyes, the bruises, the little scratches scattered across his face and neck, the cast arm – and he'd run. As soon as he'd slammed the door behind him, he'd know it had been one of the dumbest moves in his life. He could practically hear their relationship crumble in that slam.

So embarrassed had he been by his actions, that he'd further ruined things by avoiding the other boy all week.

Now though, he stood outside the double doors that lead into the April Rhodes Civic Pavilion and tried to muster up the courage to go inside and watch his boyfriend – if he could still call him that – nail his audition. Because if there was one thing Blaine knew for sure, it was just how amazing Kurt was.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped soundlessly into the auditorium and found himself a seat up near the top. He had hoped to be alone on the row, but a moment later Mr. Shue came in and took a seat beside him.

"Doing alright, Blaine?" the Glee sponsor asked, looking at him worriedly.

Blaine shrugged. He was fine, if you didn't count the fact that he had probably destroyed one of the best things he'd had going for himself.

"It's been a rough week, I know," Will began, ignoring Blaine's scoff. "But I just want you to know, you can talk to me about anything. And if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, there's always Miss Pillsbury."

When he didn't receive a response, Will turned back to the front. After a few minutes, Mercedes and Tina joined them. "Hey, boo," the heavier set girl whispered, giving Blaine a sidearmed squeeze.

Carmen came in and settled herself, rifling through the files before her and calling for Kurt to take the stage. Rachel quickly slipped out of the back to the seats, practically throwing herself on Blaine's lap as she tumbled into a chair. "I'm glad you came," she breathed, seeming relieved.

They all watched as Kurt limped onto the stage, standing centered on Carmen. His eyes searched the auditorium, landing on Blaine. For an impossibly long moment, they stared into one another's eyes across the expanse of folding seats before Kurt broke contact and refocused on the woman before him.

"Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel," he introduced himself breathily. "And I'll be singing _I Have Nothing_, written by David Foster and Linda Thompson, and sung by the late Miss Whitney Houston."

As he began to sing, Kurt's eyes once again focused in on Blaine. He poured all of his hurt, his love, and his sorrow into those heart piercing notes, tears glittering as his voice soared, hoping that Blaine would understand and forgive him.

As the last notes trailed off into stillness, Kurt sniffed slightly, refusing to reach up and wipe away his tears. In that moment, it didn't matter to him what Carmen Tibideaux thought or whether or not he got into NYADA – all that mattered was whether or not his message had gotten across to Blaine.

Carmen was silent for a moment, marking something down on the sheets before her. "An interesting choice, Mr. Hummel," she commented, looking up before continuing her notes. "I'm sure Miss Houston would have been as impressed with what you did with that song as I am."

Kurt almost burst into tears again as Carmen smiled at him, breathing out 'thank yous' as he carefully made his way off stage.

When he was gone, Carmen's voice rang out once again. "Rachel Berry."

"Blaine," Kurt breathed carefully, seating himself in Rachel's vacated seat. His eyes were still misty and his heart was pounding. Their eyes met and with that strange silent communication they had once shared so strongly, they agreed to talk – but first...

* * *

Kurt stared wide eyed as Carmen packed up her things and left the auditorium.

Rachel had choked. Completely and utterly choked. On a song she had been singing for so long there should have been no way for her to forget even one note let alone the words.

As the Jewish girl broke down and pleaded for another chance, Kurt was torn. He needed to comfort his friend, but he desperately wanted to begin talking things out with his boyfriend. There was so much they needed to discuss, so much they needed air out between them.

A hand on his shoulder brought his attention away from the spectacle that was Rachel Berry. "Go to her," Blaine whispered, nodding his head at the stage. "I'll be here."

Struck by the selfless act, Kurt pressed a quick but firm kiss to his boyfriend's lips before hurrying to take Rachel in his arms.

* * *

"How's Rachel?" Blaine asked, sitting down beside Kurt at their table at the Lima Bean.

Kurt sighed, looking up from his coffee to give the other boy a pained smile. "Crushed. She'd hinged all her hopes on NYADA; and even though I'm sure she could easily get into NYU's program, I think she's too shattered right now to even think about it."

"Haven't deadlines passed?" The question wasn't intended to be callous, just reasonable.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "But I'm pretty sure she applied to something like fifty colleges. She just needs time."

They sat in silence for a while as the tone subtly shifted. Kurt winced as his muscles protested the long day. His ribs were still bruised and only time would take care of them, but he'd stood too long and his leg was already beginning to kill him.

Before Blaine could notice though, Kurt spoke. "So, are we going to talk about... us... at all?" And wasn't that a cringe worthy question. Kurt almost kicked himself for asking, but he didn't know how to begin to address all that had happened... or if Blaine even wanted to.

"Yeah," the other boy agreed, but didn't say anything further.

"Do you want to talk with someone like Miss Pillsbury? Like, couple's counseling?" the countertenor asked after a few beats of silence told him Blaine wasn't going to be the one to begin.

"Do you think we should?"

Kurt sighed. "I think we should talk. However we do that, I don't care, but I'm not giving up on this. So either we talk and air things between us... or we get someone to help us do it. Either way."

When Blaine just nodded, Kurt sighed again.

"Look, I messed up. I'm sorry. I just... I really didn't think of it as cheating, but that doesn't change the fact that you did and that's what matters," he began finally, tired of the non-responses he was receiving. Blaine might not have wanted to talk, but Kurt did. "I told him not to contact me anymore. That as flattering as his words were, that I had a boyfriend – whom I love very much – and his attentions weren't appreciated."

Kurt waited for a response, growing troubled at the other boy's continued silence.

"Please say something," he begged, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, too," Blaine said eventually, tears in his own eyes as they met Kurt's. "I just... I'm so scared of losing you. And I thought, next year you're going to be gone... To New York. And I can't help but think about all the experiences you're going to have, the people you're going to meet – brand new life, brand new friends, brand new everything. And I'm gonna be right here. By myself. I'm sorry I've been distant. I just figured that if I learned what it felt like now, then I could learn to handle it when you're really gone. When I'm alone. You're the love of my life, Kurt."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt breathed, pulling the boy he loved carefully into his arms. He felt terrible for thinking the worst of Blaine before. "You're not going to be alone. We can Skype every day and you can come visit me in New York every weekend as far as I'm concerned. But I promise, you aren't going to lose me."

Blaine snuffled against his shoulder, voice barely a wet whisper. "I love you so much."

This time Kurt sighed with relief, sniffling as he smiled. "I love you, too."

The End

Author's note: I am wholly blaming this on my friend, Remus Brightside, with whom I had a long conversation with about cheaters and tell-tale signs of someone who has, does, or will cheat. Now, given that flirting is as natural as breathing to the majority of my friends (many of whom are in various combinations of relationships ranging from monogamous to D/s to polyamorous to open and beyond – we're a 30s-50s crowd of pirates) – to me, flirty texting is not cheating (sexting would be, though). That said, I tried to keep from making a solid statement about it because 1) Kurt really is naïve even now and 2) because these characters are not me and while my opinion is valid, I'm trying not force my opinion on the characters (and because Blaine totally flirts without having any clue he does so). Oddly enough, despite its origins, this fic was mostly just reactionary 'what if'.

Now, I really have no idea what the hell I just wrote since it escaped away from me after the first few paragraphs. I just kept adding to it the last couple of days and 8957 words later it became this... something far longer and far more convoluted than I've written in a long time. So please, if there's buggy, let me know. I tried to read over it, but as the writer my mind knows all of what's going on even things unwritten... ipso facto therefore, you readers are my eyes.

I am not a doctor. Please take medical observations with a hefty grain of salt.

Tell me how I did. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please be nice (e.g. no flames).

And if you have any better ideas for a title, let me know. Oh, and just an aside, in my head (since I don't plan on writing a sequel) that performance got Kurt into NYADA first go.


End file.
